Costumes and Masks
by psychobabblers
Summary: The Justice League is holding a Halloween party where everyone has to draw a name to dress up as. Guess who Clark and Bruce get? A rather belated Halloween fic.


_A/N: Oops , forgot to post this here... But here, have a late, late Halloween fic :)_

* * *

><p>"Alright, everyone got their assignments?" Batman growled, sweeping his sharp gaze around the room as if he expected to see someone crouched behind a chair avoiding his duty.<p>

"The only one who was even annoyed at the idea was you, B," Superman said, amused. Batman huffed out an irritated breath. "And stop treating this like a case. It's a party! We're supposed to have fun!"

Batman glared at the slip of paper he was holding. "Fun," he said doubtfully. "Right."

Superman longed to take a peek at Bruce's paper, but he felt that Batman would somehow _know_and tell him off. Whatever. He would find out soon anyways. For now he just grinned down at his own and the word printed there in Diana's elegant script: "Batman."

It was a lot more difficult than he expected to make a Superman costume, Bruce reflected mournfully as he stabbed himself yet again with the needle. Obviously, the material wouldn't be the same, since it wasn't like Bruce had a stash of the Superman costume's cloth lying around, but he hadn't thought the sewing part would be so difficult.

Hmm. Now that he thought about it though, that was a definite hole in his files. What if Superman needed an emergency costume but all the original material had vanished from the world and the Fortress was somehow inaccessible? Stranger things had happened. Bruce would be remiss in his duty if he didn't enter this information into his files. And if he managed to synthesize it before the party, well at least he'd get points for authenticity.

The party was three weeks away. Bruce was sure they'd have to fight some kind of evil crazy person who could slice through the costume so that he could snag a sample.

Bruce sat back, rubbing his eyes and feeling satisfied.

"You're late," Batman said, fixing him with a baleful glare.

Superman shifted on his feet. "Sorry. I was held up."

"Well. Now that our leader has decided to show up, we can get this meeting started," Batman growled. Superman slouched in his chair a little and Wally rolled his eyes a little when Batman turned around.

Superman listened with half an ear while his mind drifted. Today was just a general meeting anyways; those were always pointless and boring.

Huh, Clark thought idly as Batman turned to point at somehow on the board. So _that's_how those buckles are supposed to go.

Sure, Clark could just use the Fortress computers to pull up images and videos for reference, but it wasn't really helpful in figuring out how all the pieces fit together, and it wasn't like he could use his x-ray vision on a screen.

Here though, he could take as many notes as he wanted.

Superman was snapped out of a serious contemplation of Batman's stomach muscles when he heard Green Lantern say in confusion, "But we've never interfered with the Ri'leks before."

"We all agreed it was something we needed to look into," Batman growled. "I'm just moving it up the schedule. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

There were shrugs and head shakes around the table.

"Then unless anyone has something to bring up, the meeting's over."

Superman walked with Batman to the transporter room. "Be careful when we fight them alright?" Batman said. "Their weapons pack a punch, even to you."

"Sure," Superman said. Then he grinned. "How about dinner tonight? We haven't gone out in ages."

Batman considered it and then frowned. "I have a stakeout," he began.

Superman waved it away. "No problem," he said cheerfully. "I'll just come along." A stakeout was even better than a date. He could study the armor some more while still spending time with Bruce, maybe see how the buckles and straps held together even when Bruce was...contorted into interesting positions.

Batman shrugged. "If you want. Try not to be too distracting."

Superman smirked. "Of course not."

* * *

><p>"I see Gotham's gearing up for Halloween," Clark remarked, gazing at the frankly horrifying decorations that adorned much of the streets and buildings.<p>

"Never let it be said that we can't be creative," Batman grumbled, glaring out at his city. Outside the Tumbler, the wind seemed to pick up in a howl of agreement.

"Oh yeah. I brought coffee," Clark said. "It's getting kind of chilly."

Bruce lifted an eyebrow that he knew Clark couldn't see but probably guessed at under the mask at the rich smell that filled the inside of the car when Clark unscrewed the thermos. "That's not coffee."

Clark shrugged, unrepentant. "It has coffee _in _it," he said cheerfully.

"Don't tell me you bought pumpkin spiced lattes from _Starbucks_," Batman growled.

"Of course not. I know how much you detest Starbucks," Clark said, trying to hide a smile that Bruce could see anyways. He took a sip and then held it out to Bruce. "Just try it. It's good, I promise."

Bruce sighed and took the offered thermos, bringing it warily to his lips. The coffee was surprisingly rich, and the hint of pumpkin and cinnamon made him sigh softly, and he felt his eyes slip shut. When he opened them again, Clark was staring at him with a small smile. "Alright, fine. It's very good," he admitted, and was rewarded with a wide grin that warmed him far more than the coffee had.

* * *

><p>By the time the Halloween party rolled around, everyone was ready for a chance to unwind, especially Bruce, even if he'd never admit it aloud. This year Gotham had once again gone all out in "celebrating" her favorite holiday and Batman and his allies had had their hands full simply trying to distinguish the partiers from the criminals.<p>

Why on Earth anyone would think dressing up as the Joker to go trick-or-treating was a good idea was beyond Bruce's comprehension, but he knew that he'd had enough near misses to last a lifetime. And the real clown hadn't even bothered to show up in the end.

At least there had been some Batmans, Bruce thought grumpily. Though not as many as the Supermans.

He didn't really have a right to complain about that though, he reflected as he looked at the pile of bright cloth on a table in the cave. Sighing, he began to strip off his armor and into the silk material.

At least it'd be interesting to see who Clark got.

* * *

><p>When Superman arrived at the Watchtower, he found that almost everyone had already arrived. It was a sea of familiar costumes and faces—just not in the correct matches.<p>

"Hey Batman!" Wally greeted as he zipped by in bright green. Then he was back at Clark's side, staring at the costume. "You're…" he said faintly.

"How'd you know it was me?" Clark asked, looking down at his costume.

"You walk like Superman," Wally said. "But still, cool costume." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You didn't steal it from him did you?"

Clark laughed and Wally blanched. "It's unnerving even to see a smile from that cowl," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Then he brightened. "Just wait 'till you see who Batman is dressed as," he said, laughing. Clark craned his neck to see where Bruce was, intrigued.

"I'll get him," Wally said, vanishing it a blur of green. Batman soon came into view with his customary scowl firmly fixed on his face. In Superman's own blue and red.

* * *

><p>Batman stopped short at the sight of Superman, eyes narrowing. He looked him up and down, head tilted consideringly, and Clark barely restrained himself from shivering under the cool gaze. Then Batman bent down and tapped one of Clark's knees lightly. "You've got the joint wrong here," he commented lightly, looking up at him with a small smile. Clark felt his stomach do a flip.<p>

Someone nearby coughed and Batman abruptly straightened. "Well, well," Diana said, glancing between the two of them, a smirk on her lips. She was dressed in the red of the Flash's costume. She lifted an eyebrow at the pair of them and Clark was suddenly conscious of how close the two of them were standing. Bruce surely already knew, but he had been the one to put them in that position in the first place, wasn't he?

"Relax Clark," Bruce murmured, and when Clark looked down at him, his eyes were clear and unguarded. _I want this_, he meant.

"Does this mean you're finally going to be telling your friends?" Diana chided them gently. They turned to face her, Bruce's eyes wideningly slightly before he relaxed.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for that no one noticed," Bruce said ruefully.

"Anyone with knew you could tell how much you meant to each other," Diana said. "Allow me to be the first to give you my blessing."

Clark smiled widely. "Thank you Diana." Then he turned to Bruce. "Come dance with me."

Bruce didn't hesitate and allowed Clark to tow him to the middle of the dance floor, which told Clark that this hadn't been a spur of the moment decision. He'd obviously been thinking about this for awhile.

The dance floor was dark, lit by an ensemble of grinning Jack o' lanterns, casting the area with an eerie orange glow. The strands of music—it was alien, surely—wrapped around them in haunting notes layered with long beats. Clark could see people stopping to watch them out of the corner of his eye while Bruce slowly relaxed in his arms. And as they swayed together amidst their closest friends who were watching them with obvious happiness, Clark thought it fitting that it had taken Halloween, with its traditions of costumes and disguises, to unmask Bruce's heart.


End file.
